Tasty french toast at quaint country cottage makes memorable meal, cozy atmosphere
By CRYSTAL PETROCELLI
Get Out

Wait: We “missed the rush” and were seated seconds after arriving just shy of noon on a Sunday.

Service: Our server was casual and efficient but the tiny beads of sweat sneaking down each side of her face were unfortunate attention- grabbers. The restaurant had to be around 80 degrees so we felt her pain, we just wish we didn’t have to see it.

What we liked: The quaintness of the place was very appealing, as was the cinnamon-flecked French toast. The four small-but-thick slices of French bread — all moist and delicious — were cooked to a golden brown and served on a warm plate with a scoop of quickly melting butter. Our fresh-squeezed orange juice had only a hint of sourness and just the right amount of pulp.

Scene: It’s a G-town, morning munchies version of Tempe’s House of Tricks. A white-washed, green-trimmed cottage with tiny dining rooms tucked about and weathered wood flooring creating a cozy atmosphere for casual business types, baby-toting parents and young couples. The background music — which included songs from The Beatles, Fleetwood Mac and Elvis — was a nice touch, as was the old rocking chair on the porch entry way.

Bathroom break: Diners have to use the old-fashioned shopping center’s stand-alone restroom, which was clean but inconvenient and warm.
Tab for two: $23 with tip and tax for a designer special omelet ($6.75), French toast ($4.95), side of bacon ($1.95) and two orange juices ($2 each).

If work weren’t buying: A trip to the Gilbert House is more than a meal thanks to its adorable Farmhouse Village setting. It’s hard to beat a good breakfast followed by antique shopping and brownies.

By CHRIS PAGE
Get Out

Wait: We arrived at 11 a.m. on a Saturday and, because the dining rooms were full, seated ourselves outside on the mist-cooled patio. Ten minutes later, we were soaked by the overactive misters — and our server hadn’t come yet.

Service: The Gilbert House is so down-home homey, its servers are as harried as a mama running from kitchen to dining room. Ours passed us up to take the order at the next table over, then corrected herself. She was expedient but detached.

What we liked: We loved everything we sampled from the typical country kitchen menu. Our hotcakes were fluffy and served with warmed syrup. Commented my companion, “They’re the best I’ve ever eaten.” The kitchen’s cast- iron griddle worked wonders crunching up the English muffin under my delicious eggs Benedict, which included thick slabs of tasty Canadian bacon but a rather from-the-can hollandaise sauce. The real delight of our breakfast was the house’s special apple pancakes, which come slathered in a rich cider syrup that, like the cakes themselves, found a perfect balance of apple and cinnamon. We washed it down with fresh-squeezed orange juice. Talk about country heaven.

Scene: Next time my own mama visits, I’m taking her to The Gilbert House, which used to be a Sears catalog ordering store and now serves as the frontpiece of the Farmhouse Village, a quaint little gathering of sweets and knick-knack stores with creaky hardwood floors and kindly old women behind the counters. This time, wiping away the wet from those outside misters, my companion and I burned off our breakfast by browsing the bygone- era shops.

Bathroom break: Whoops. Maybe this place is a little too country: Its bathrooms, which it shares with the other shops in the village, are modern-day outhouses — like the facilities at a highway rest stop.

Tab for two: $27 with tax and tip for a full stack of hotcakes ($4.25), eggs Benedict ($7.95), apple cakes ($4.95), orange juice ($2) and soft drink ($1.25).

If work weren’t buying: Next time, we’re waking up early to try to get a seat inside, away from those misters. But we’re coming back soon. Because — just between you and me — mama never made food this good.